


When Something Burns Like Cinnamon Whiskey

by Auraleous (TheSoup)



Category: Super Smash Brothers
Genre: Drunken Confessions, Drunken confession turns into new relationship, Hangover, Hungover, M/M, Mild Hurt/Comfort, New Relationship, hungover fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-10-19
Updated: 2015-10-19
Packaged: 2018-05-15 09:38:00
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 667
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5780896
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheSoup/pseuds/Auraleous
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The true victory for them wasn't in winning the tournament as a team – it was becoming an unstoppable team for the rest of their lives after drinking a little too much at the after-party.</p>
            </blockquote>





	When Something Burns Like Cinnamon Whiskey

EVERYTHING happened the way it was supposed to, like it or not. 

That kiss happened. The sex happened.

So did the cuddles, and so came the morning after. 

The passionate confession after winning the tournament, the drinking, the feelings –kissing touching MORE. More. 

Marth had not expected the more.

Ike had suspicions, but he was already feeling something between them first. So, he followed up on them. It was true, and the feelings were, too. So, it finally just...happened.

All of it. A lot of it. More than once.

They wanted more and more. 

More would come.

So would they.

All in due time. They needed to wake up first.

-x-

Marth groaned, sunlight from the bedroom window hitting his cheek more than it was minutes ago. It was fine earlier. Now, it annoyed him awake.  
Gods, the hangover was a bit unreal. Papery lips and dried-out eyelids didn't appreciate being alive again. Marth's body didn't appreciate the poison he drank last night, and it was punishing him severely with dehydration and body aches. 

He needed aspirin. And a few bottles of water. And a fried egg, for his cure. He didn't know for sure if it worked, but it couldn't hurt. It would help settle his unhappy gut, lurching once it found Marth was awake enough to honestly feel it. More punishment.

"Oh gods..." He groaned some more, regretting being awake. Stirring a bit, he realized he was sprawled all over Ike and his bed. "Ugh," he said, voice raspy and dry. He rolled away from Ike and almost curled up completely from the pain in his stomach.

Ike woke up with a whistling sharp breath through his nostrils as he stretched his legs under the covers. He groaned and yawned at the same time. His body ached only a tad, more from the tournament before the frenzied and passionate love making from last night -- he just needed to get up and walk it off, and he would be fine. Overall, his body didn't hate him that much after those ten shots of cinnamon whiskey. It honestly should've hated him more, but it didn't.

In fact, Ike felt pretty good. His chest felt light, his mind was happily fuzzy with good feelings, and he felt...satisfied. 

"Mornin,'" Ike said, husky testosterone-rich voice covered in sleep and hungover crust.

"Ugggghhh...good morning." Marth wasn't even being sarcastic, because it was a good morning; they were waking up together.

There was a comfortable silence as they both stretched, groaned, and writhed in pain. Eventually, they groaned and squinted and rolled into a casual hungover cuddle. 

Marth found himself curling into Ike's side, his stomach not letting up no matter how long he lay there and take it.

Ike put his arm around Marth with no real effort. He didn't open his eyes. Damn sunlight. "So..." He started.

"Y-yes?" Marth hoped his stomach would calm down soon. He wanted to feel butterflies, not the aftermath of too many shots. If only he didn't try to keep up with Ike...

Ike cleared some of the drunken sleep from his throat. He squinted his eyes open a crack, just so he could look at Marth cuddling into him. "Are we...ahem, a thing?" He cleared his throat again, making his words more raspy. "Or was this a mistake?"

Marth knew Ike wasn't going to dance around the point, which only made his love intensify. "No," he said. "Definitely not a mistake, so..."

"More than just a fling, right?" Ike sounded way too awake and sober for the hangover that ravaged Marth's insides. 

"More..." Marth cleared his throat this time, considering the need for a bottle of water more so than ever before. "More than any of that." He cuddled against Ike's warm side, enjoying the feel of hard muscle as a pillow by his head. "I promise."

"Good," said Ike. He stroked Marth's soft skin, enjoying the warmth for just a moment as he deeply swore, "I promise, too."

-x-

**Author's Note:**

> ;I own nothing but the words and situations I control.
> 
> First time writing Ike/Marth, and I'm sorry if it's garbage. I always have problems figuring out how pairing gets together, and I always have to write that part out before I can mentally write any other situation with them. So, hopefully this is fine for now.
> 
> I'll leave it open in case I want to add more later.
> 
> Written originally October 19, 2015. Never posted until now.
> 
> Also, this was written on my phone and posted later by tablet, so I hope I caught all the spelling errors and little mistakes.


End file.
